Gemotions

The airport felt like a giant, echoing tomb to Michael. He slumped in a plastic chair, legs sprawled, his tie loosened and askew. His brother’s wedding. He was going to be the best man. He’d rehearsed his toast, polished his shoes, and now… this. The flight was grounded.

He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair. The vibrant colours of the pre-flight advertisements seemed jarringly cheerful. A wave of exhaustion washed over him; he just wanted to be there. The anticipation, the excitement, they had all been deflated. The wedding, his opportunity to support his brother, was drifting further away.

His phone buzzed. A text from his brother. "Everything alright? You on your way?" Michael stared at the message, the words blurring. He typed a quick reply, forcing a lightness he didn't feel. A sigh escaped him, a sound of profound discouragement.